


And It's All Over but the Shouting

by tiny_white_hats



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Episode: s03e08 Lovers Walk, Episode: s03e09 The Wish, Episode: s03e10 Amends, Episode: s03e11 Gingerbread, F/M, Gen, Get It Done Ficathon, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_white_hats/pseuds/tiny_white_hats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Lovers Walk, Oz and Cordelia begin to piece together a friendship. Rated T for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And It's All Over but the Shouting

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the Lets Get It Done Jossverse Motivation-a-Thon on Livejournal. I'm actually so tremendously glad it's done. This fic's been nagging at me for ages now, and it's a very positive thing that it's now been written. Thanks to brutti_ma_buoni for organizing the entire thing, and to rua1412 for the absolutely gorgeous banner she created for this fic, which can be found on Livejournal.
> 
> Point of reference: this fic is divided into four different sections, each one corresponding with the events of a different episode. The first is after Lovers Walk, the second is set during The Wish, the third is a few days after Amends, and the fourth is at the end of Gingerbread. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, as much as I love them. I'm just playing.

Cordelia looked like a raggedy scarecrow when Oz first visited her, lying limply in her hospital bed and staring blankly ahead. Her hair was a mess, knotted and frizzy, and the bags under her eyes were heavy purple half-moon bruises. She was limp, arms drooping at her sides like a doll, and looking pale and weak, as if she’d had the metaphorical stuffing pulled out of her.  
“Go away!” she snapped, her voice sounding hollow underneath all the painted-on rage. She turned her head to face the door, giving him her best burning glare. It was the weakest he’d ever seen it. “I don’t want to see any-

“Oh,” she quieted noticeably, sinking back into her pillows. “It’s you. You’re okay.”

“Hey, Cordy,” Oz answered. He had a balloon in his hand, one of those shiny, flattish balloons that reflected the light and read “Get Well Soon!” in cheery colors. He’d thought, maybe, it might liven up the unblemished pallor of her hospital room, add some color to the white walls, white curtains, white floor, pale white girl in the bed. It didn’t though. It just looked sad and out of place, like it was mocking the two of them with color and cheer and memories of a time when girlfriends didn’t cheat and pretty, popular girls didn’t get impaled.

She didn’t greet him, although she didn’t send him away, so Oz counted it as a win. Small victory, yeah, but you had to pick your battles with Cordelia Chase, and he’d be glad for any win he could get.

“I’d ask how you’re doing…” he trailed off, hoping to provoke Cordelia into conversation.

“But it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Cordelia replied tonelessly. “I’m way past pathetic.”

“You’re a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure pathetic s’not one of them.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes, grumbling. “Says the guy who can sit up all by himself.”

“One of my many skills,” Oz nodded calmly, giving Cordelia a flicker of a smile. Cordelia laughed. It was just a short laugh, dying after only a breath with Cordy clutching at her stomach wound and grimacing in pain, but she still laughed. Oz got the vibe that she hadn’t laughed too often since that disaster in the crumbling factory, and wanted to make her laugh again.

“Oh, here.” Oz held the balloon he’d brought out to her like a peace offering, watching the shiny present bob on the air as it drifted forward. “Lame, I know, but I feel that it’s the thought that counts.”

“Thanks,” Cordelia whispered after a few moments. “Nobody’s…” She looked down at her hands, fingers twined together above her rib cage. “Thanks, Oz.”

“Hey, so, if I’m being way too forward or anything, just yell at me or whatever, but, do you want to talk about it? The whole, y’know…” Oz gestured vaguely, trying to communicate without actually saying anything outright. He could listen to Cordelia talk about it if she wanted, but he wasn’t ready to talk.

It still hurt to think about it, finding Willow lying in Xander’s arms, kissing Xander the way she had only ever kissed him. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to remember just how close the wolf had felt in those terrible, heartbreaking moments. The wolf had wanted to tear that Beta away from his mate, to rip and claw and tear at his flesh, and to mark his mate as his. Instead of doing anything, instead of letting himself off the leash, Oz had stood there, not moving, not speaking, and barely even breathing, and he’d felt like his heart was stopping and his lungs were collapsing. No air, no blood, no life.

“You want to talk? Mr. Stoic?” Cordelia quietly asked, faking slight incredulity. It was a long way from being a sincere joke, but it was another step away from the washed out, broken hearted shell of a girl that she’d been when he walked in.

“Figured you’d end up talking enough for the both of us.”

“I appreciate it, but I’d really rather not talk about this. Not yet.”

Oz nodded, understanding. He wasn’t really ready to face up to what had happened in the factory either, but he thought he’d make the effort. “If you ever want to…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Cordelia responded, giving Oz a weak smile.

They sat together in silence for just a minute before Oz smoothly rose to his feet. “I can get out of your hair, if you like.”

“You don’t have to go,” Cordelia whispered, voice tentative and very nearly weak. “Unless you have somewhere better to be.”

“Nowhere better than here,” Oz smiled faintly, sitting down beside the bed again. “Anything else you want to talk about?”

“For once, no. I just, I didn’t want to be alone in here. I don’t really like hospitals.”

“I’ll be right here,” Oz reached out and squeezed her hand gently. “Don’t really think being alone would be good for me either.”

“Welcome to the club.”

“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band?” Oz smiled, making Cordelia roll her eyes in exasperation.

“Sure, Oz. Whatever.”

“No, it’s good.”

“If you say so,” Cordelia sighed, secretly amused by the whole thing.

“I say so.”

“And I guess that makes it a thing, right?” Cordelia snarked, laughing when Oz solemnly nodded.

“Welcome to the band, Cordelia,” he intoned, raising a hand for her to shake.

“Welcome to the band, Oz,” she returned, and suddenly, Oz didn’t feel quite so alone in the world.

* * *

Oz was not coping well at all. He missed Willow so much it hurt, an aching gnawing pain in his chest. It felt like Willow had ripped something out of him when they broke up, leaving just a jagged, angry wound with bleeding, ragged edges. He hated feeling like this, the ugly, searing pain burning him up inside until he didn't know how he could still walk, let alone breath.

Putting one foot after the other, walking through the Bronze like he was old and dying and fading away, Oz made his way to the exit. He didn't stop for Devon, calling insistently at his back to just come back and sit down, promising that they wouldn’t talk about Willow anymore. He just kept going, each step bringing him a foot closer to his empty home. He just wanted to be alone right now.

He was on the final stretch, closer to the doors than the dance floor, when he noticed her, sitting tense and on edge, as if waiting to be attacked, and stirring her coke with some serious anger. He changed course, heading to her table and dropping into the seat beside her.

"Cordelia, hey."

She looked up, gave a wan smile, and looked down again. She wasn't quite the girl he remembered from Scooby meetings and double dates, nor the laughing, heartless queen who had paraded through hallways as if they were designed just for her. Thankfully, she was a far cry from the shadow he'd visited in the hospital, listless and hollow and sad. She looked angry now, leather jacket, leather skirt, furious scowl.

"Oz," she smiled politely again, nothing behind her grin. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone."

"So would I," Oz smirked. "Wanna be alone together?"

Cordelia snorted a brief laugh, just a little more substance in her smile. "Alright," she nodded, after pausing for a moment to consider.

They sat quietly for a minute or so before Oz spoke up. He was short and to the point, as usual, and marveled at the novelty of starting a conversation himself. "So, it seems to me that if I wanted to be alone, the Bronze wouldn't have been my first choice."

“Yeah, well, where else was I supposed to go? Cordelia answered bitterly. “Besides, this is where Harmony and her flock were headed. I'm expected to gratefully follow along.”

“Sounds fun,” Oz nearly grimaced, tone blank.

“Sarcasm?” Cordelia asked, smiling when Oz nodded. “Make it a little harder to tell, why don't you? And, yeah. Fun.”

“Why, then?” Oz tilted his head to the side, just a little, staring unblinkingly at the taller girl.

“Why what?”

“Why Harmony? If you don't like her, why try to win her back?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Cordelia smiled darkly, sounding a little pained. “Everybody else in this school hates me. The only people who don't are the type who hang out in the library for fun, and there is no way in hell that I will crawl back to Buffy and her little freak squad, just to get screwed over again.”

“I don't hate you,” Oz returned mildly, small smile on his face.

“Then you are one half of a definite minority.”

“I bet Buffy and Co. don't either.”

“Doubtful. They never really liked me that much. Tolerated, maybe, but no matter how many times I helped them save the world, I was still Queen C, resident bitch, to them.

“Not like it matters, though,” Cordelia continued, a hard expression like a war mask on. “I have my old friends back, and I don’t need to strap myself down to the loser brigade ever again. I'm not going back to them.”

Oz didn't answer her, contemplating himself and Willow and the gang, how much he still hurt, still missed them, and just how hard it was to be alone, when just a week ago, he'd been sitting at the library table with Willow on his lap.

"Would you?" Cordelia asked carefully, betraying nothing with her tone. Oz suspected she wanted him to say no, wanted a ringing condemnation of former friends. He just didn’t know if he could give her that.

"I don't know," he finally answered. "Wish I did." Cordelia didn't say anything, but Oz got the distinct impression that she was a little disappointed. Quiet as he was, Oz had learned to read silences as easily as tones of voice.

"Whatever. The point is that they're not my friends anymore, and I don't want them to be."

"So Harmony?" Oz asked, arching an eyebrow skeptically.

"She used to be my best friend, before my great mistake. So, we’ll be friends again. I’ll be popular again, thank God.”

“What if that doesn’t work out?”

“Then I’ll be friendless and alone and lower on the social totem pole than Xander ‘I’m an asshole who dresses in the dark’ Harris, which, for the record, is disgustingly unfair. He’s the loser! I’m the victim here!”

“You won’t be completely friendless,” Oz said thoughtfully, looking at her hard, as if she had the answers to all the questions he couldn’t bear to ask himself tattooed on her forehead. “You’ll have me.”

“Yeah?” Cordelia asked, trying her best to hide a hopeful smile.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Thanks,” Cordelia answered earnestly, ducking her head just a little bit.

“Friends don’t need to thank each other for being there.”

“No,” Cordelia grinned at him like the sun coming up and shook her head. “I guess they don’t.”

“I’m gonna get a refill,” Cordy gestured vaguely at her empty glass a few moments later, rising to her feet. “Do you want me to get you something?”

“No thanks,” Oz responded, and watched Cordelia as she took a step and froze. He followed her gaze and saw Willow staring right at him, giving him the wide eyed sorrowful look she had taken to wearing since the breakup, with Xander and Buffy at her side.

It was like something out of a Western, and Oz could hear the soundtrack for a high noon standoff in his head. There were no guns, although he was certain that Buffy was armed, but Cordelia’s glare was sharp enough to cut flesh. For his part, Oz did his very best to stay blank, to keep all of the terrible, heart breaking things he was feeling off his face, although, despite his best efforts, he was afraid that Willow could see right through him. She stared at him with giant, melancholy doe-eyes, and it hurt, seeing her with Xander hovering beside her, like a giant balloon tied tight to her wrist. It hurt so badly that Oz was afraid someone had reached through his chest, had taken his heart in hand and squeezed. It felt like something was missing, something big and vital and important, but be couldn’t figure out what was gone, with the pain in his nearly bursting heart clouding all his senses.

Buffy looked decidedly uncomfortable, trying desperately to hold onto her status as a neutral party. She threw the two of them a thin, awkward smile, so unsure of where she stood with them, and herded Willow and Xander away, to a table across the club.

“Wanna be somewhere else?” Oz asked mildly, tearing his gaze away from his ex-girlfriend to raise an eyebrow at Cordelia. He could feel Willow’s eyes still burning into the back of his head, and he couldn’t bear to look at her anymore.

“Do I ever,” Cordy hissed, poison glare still locked on the retreating threesome.

“Cool. I’ll drive.” Oz walked out of The Bronze, Cordelia at his side, and he didn’t look back at Willow.

Ten minutes later, Oz and Cordelia sat in Oz’s van, parked near the side of a cliff. They were just close enough to the edge to see ocean waves slamming into the base of the cliff, over and over and over. This was Oz’s favorite place in Sunnydale, he’d told Cordelia as he parked the van, especially when he wanted to be alone. He’d spent hours sitting out here after his first moon as the wolf, because sometimes the solitude was all that helped.

“They're not together, you know,” Oz offered, after a long silence. Jealousy was written all over Cordelia’s face, carved across her forehead like wrinkles, and he already missed her smile.

“How do you know? They looked pretty goddamn cozy from where I was.”

“Buffy stopped me. Said I needed to know Willow's a mess. She won't even touch Xander, 'cause she's worried it'll hurt her chances with me. They're barely friends.”

“Good,” Cordelia snarled savagely, all vindictive joy and fury. “I hope they're miserable.”

“S' what I'm told.”

Cordelia nodded, nasty lioness's smirk on her face. “Wait a second,” she questioned, smile sliding off her face like rainwater. “Why's Buffy telling you this?”

“She said she wanted to see how I was coping. Pretty sure she wants me to take Willow back.”

Cordelia was quiet for a long second before she laughed bitterly, giving Oz a self-deprecating smile. “I told you they didn’t want me back. I’m not one of them, not like Giles or Willow or you, and Buffy knows it.”

“You think I’m one of them?” Oz raised an eyebrow at her, shaking his head slowly. “I’m not. Three nights a month I’m their furry problem, but the rest of the month, I’m just Willow’s boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well notice how Buffy hasn’t bothered to ask me how I’m doing and tell me how much everyone misses me. Why would Buffy bother checking up on you if she didn’t care?”

“Because she thinks I’ll come back. She doesn’t think you will.”

“Why not?” Cordelia asked, deathly quiet, as if she spoke too loud, her voice would tremble and give away all the insecurities she’d hidden so well. Even in a hush, she sounded far more vulnerable than Oz had ever expected she could let herself sound. “I told her that I loved him, and she still doesn’t believe that I cared.”

“Maybe she thinks that you cared too much. You gave up a lot more for him than he ever gave up for you.”

“Maybe.” Cordelia nodded slowly, before her voice hardened once more. “Or maybe she thinks I’m too much of a bitch.”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s not like Xander Harris is some goddamn saint! I’m the wronged party here! I gave up my popularity for him, I made myself a laughingstock with my friends for him, and don’t even get me started on what I went through with my parents for that bastard! What did he ever do for me? He mocked me and chose his friends over me and then he fucking cheated on me!

“I did everything for him, and he didn’t care! I gave him my fucking heart, and he didn't even want it!” Cordelia cried, voice blasting through Oz’s van like a siren. She was furious, her eyes flashing like contained explosions, and her voice like the rawest form of music, and for the first time in his life, Oz understood Cordelia Chase’s attraction. She was beautiful and angry and alive, and everything he wasn’t. They were a study in contrasts, dark, explosive, angry Cordelia and small, pale, silent Oz. She was loud and confident and brash and furious, and Oz was completely in awe of her capacity to feel so much out loud.

Cordelia was a girl on fire, every single hurt she was feeling lit up like a bonfire, and Oz knew that he would never be able to express himself like that. He didn’t shout and rage and cry, he just buried everything he felt six feet below the surface and pretend he didn’t feel anything at all.

Oz couldn’t rage like she could, spilling every hurt out and letting them all burn, he couldn’t even let go of all the pain until he felt numb. He could do stoic (no words, no expression, no feelings, nothing), and that was about it. Stoic was putting a band-aid on an amputated limb, wearing it just for show, when all you wanted was another dose of the morphine. He needed to be numb, the way he still needed Willow, yet the feeling had been lurking just out of his reach. He needed something completely empty, void of everything, void of Willow, before he could feel really and truly numb, but she'd left her fingerprints, her scent, her memory on everything he'd ever known. 

“And don’t you even care, Oz?” Cordelia turned on him, eyes blazing a hundred livid shades of brown, and Oz still had nothing to say, nothing to express. “Why aren’t you furious? Willow cheated on you,” she spat out through a clenched jaw, staring him in the face and daring him to break down and scream.

“I do care,” was all he said, quiet, passive, calm. Inside, buried deep in his brain and heart and lungs, he was a mess, raging like the wolf he pretended he wasn’t, raw pain demanding to be felt, like an exposed nerve. “You think I don’t?”

“What am I supposed to think? Your girlfriend cheats on you and you spend your time listening to me freak about it! Aren’t you angry?”

“Yeah. I just deal differently,” Oz sighed, running a hand through messy, russet hair. “Does it help? Feeling angry?”

Cordelia was quiet for a minute, staring out the windshield of the van. “No,” she finally answered. “It doesn’t.” She turned to face the shorter teen, eyes sharp on his face. “Does whatever you’re doing help?”

“I dunno,” Oz chuckled darkly. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

“What does help?” Cordelia asked, sounding far more lost and alone than she had when she was shouting, and, with a sudden clarity, Oz realized that Cordelia was hiding behind a ironclad mask, just as much as he was. Maybe they weren’t so different, at the heart of things.

“Waiting, I guess,” Oz sighed. She couldn’t be angry forever, and Oz couldn’t even reach numb, still fumbling in the dark to find an off-switch for all of the pain. “There’s always amnesia, but it doesn’t come highly recommended.”

“So, I guess we wait.”

“Guess we do.”

* * *

For the first time in nearly a month, Oz felt happy. He'd spent the past week with Willow, taking their time off of school to rebuild their relationship, and it was good. He felt whole again, like Willow had slotted some missing piece of him back into place. He loved her, she loved him, and, even if he didn't really trust Xander yet, he'd spent the last week leaning to trust Willow all over again. It hadn't been easy, but it had been worth it. This morning, he'd walked Willow to class and kissed her goodbye, and it felt wonderful.

“So, you and Willow, huh?” came from behind him, and even just hearing their names together again made Oz want to grin like a madman.

"Cordelia, hey," Oz nodded, turning to face the taller girl who’d spoken, giving her a tiny smile.

"So how long did it take for you to go crawling back to her?" Cordelia growled savagely, arms crossed and face curled into a sneer. "A week? Less?"

“Whoa,” Oz started, taken aback by her harsh tone. “It's not like that.”

“No? Sure looks like you took her back after she screwed you over,” Cordelia spat, full of rage of biblical proportions. “God, Oz! You’re pathetic! Don’t you have any self-respect?!”

“That's out of line,” Oz answered calmly, staring at Cordelia with a face blank as an empty canvas. Around them, gawkers were starting to pool, circling like wild dogs waiting for their chance at the carrion.

“Is it? Because I'm thinking it's not. You said we're friends, Oz? Well, friends are straight with each other, and that's what I'm doing. She cheated on you already, Oz, so why won’t she do it again? You’re just letting her use you, Oz, and that’s what’s so sad!”

“I'm choosing to trust Will. To be the bigger person,” Oz replied, and the pointed look he gave Cordelia said clearly that there was more than one situation in which he was taking the high road.

"Why? Did she beg you to take her back? Did she cry, all sad and sniffly and heartbroken? I bet you hated watching her cry, didn't you? It just tore you to pieces, knowing it was all your fault Willow was sobbing like a goddamn kindergartner!

“Cordelia, don’t…”

“Or better yet,” she continued on as if she hadn’t heard Oz, eyes lit up in vindictive, predatory joy. She wanted to make him hurt, wanted him to keep suffering the way she still was, and was slinging her words with a brutal efficiency. “Did she get on her back for you, spread her legs like the whore she is? Is that why you took her back, Oz?”

"What do you want, Cordelia?" Oz sighed, running a tired hand through his hair.

"I just wanted to know why. She used you like yesterday’s newspaper, Oz! She kept you until she got the newer model, and then she threw you over the side! You’re nothing to her but the boy who wanted her when Xander didn’t, so why the hell are you going back to her?"

"Why do you care what I do, Cordelia?"

“Newsflash, Oz! Maybe you were too busy being detached and ironic to notice, but you're not the only one she hurt! Taking her back doesn't make everything better, it just makes you feel like the bigger person!"

"I have to go to class, Cordelia," Oz said calmly, trying to walk around the furious girl.

“How can you stand to touch at her after what she did? How can you even look at her when you know what she did with Xander? If you think that she's changed, that she won't run to Xander the second he gives her the opportunity, than you're much stupider than I thought.”

“Nobody's asking you to forgive Xander. We both make our own choices.”

“Fuck you, Oz!” Cordelia hissed, face livid and reddening with rage.

Finally, Oz pushed by her without a word. His expression was stony, harsh and apathetic, like an ancient statue of some pitiless, inhuman figure.

Oz walked down the hall calmly, as if nothing had happened, and Cordelia watched him go, vindicated and triumphant in her rage. Then, remembering Oz’s cold glare, with a sudden leaden feeling in her gut, Cordelia realized that she may have just alienated the one person she actually called a friend.

* * *

Oz had managed to miss nearly all of the chaos in Town Hall, so Willow had pieced the story together for him once he’d gotten her untied. Looking around the mess that Town Hall had become, he could see Xander and Willow searching for Amy, who was all of a sudden a rat, while Buffy ran interference with her and Willow’s moms, and Giles fretted over unsalvageable books from the bonfire. Members of MOO wandered around the room like lost sheep, completely baffled by the nights events, and through the thinning mass of bodies, he could just barely spot Cordelia walking out into the night.

"Cordelia," he nodded, falling into step with her. She had made it out of Town Hall and was stepping onto the parking lot when Oz caught up with her, looking completely unprepared to walk home, and no sign of her car. “Hey.”

"Yeah?" she snapped, quickening her stride just a little.

"I heard what you did. Fire extinguisher? Nicely done."

"Thanks," she said curtly, slowing down just a little.

"You're alright?" he asked, hand hovering just above her shoulder, wanting to make contact, but unsure if he should. Cordelia was still an unknown quantity with him, fluctuating to passionate to furious to focused calm. She was a study in extremes, and that baffled him.

"I'm fine, Oz," Cordelia finally stopped, crossing her arms and looking him in the face.

"Gladness," he nodded, a rare smile briefly flitting across his face.

"Don't you have a girlfriend to take care of?"

"She's doing alright now. Her mom’ll take her home, once she finds Amy."

"Amy? Amy Madison?" Cordelia asked, arching an eyebrow.

"She's a rat now."

"Oh." Cordelia, going against tradition and seeming at a loss for words.

"Anyways, do you need a ride?” Oz asked, glancing critically at her uncomfortable looking shoes. “Not seeing your car."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Cordelia asked, completely at a loss. "I was a complete bitch to you and you're not even mad!”

He ought to be yelling at her at her, she thought, about how awful and bitter and jealous she was, how it was no wonder she had nothing but enemies, because she drove everyone away. She was sure it was exactly what she deserved, and all the shame and frustration and confusion were painted all over her face, clear as day to Oz.

"You were upset. I get it," he shrugged awkwardly. This wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation he savored, necessary though it was.

“But—”

“We're friends, Cor. We piss each other off, and then we get over it.”

“Well, then, thanks, I—”

"I don't really do well with thanks. Kind of embarrassing." Oz cut her off and held up his keys to her. "Ride?"

"That'd be really nice, actually."

After a brief period of friendly silence, Cordelia tentatively spoke up again. "About last week..."

“Forgiven.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. You were angry, didn’t mean it.”

"So you’re just okay with me? After what I said?" Cordelia stared at Oz, uncomprehendingly. In Oz’s experience, grudges weren’t worth half the energy they took up, though he assumed Cordelia was unused to that view. With her friends, grudges were an art. It all seemed counterproductive to Oz, but he wasn’t big on judging how other people lived their lives.

"I'd much rather forgive people than stay angry. Friends, especially."

"Okay.”

She paused again to speak when they reached Oz's van, stopping at the front of the van on her way to the passenger side. “We're still friends?”

“Yeah, Cor. We're still friends.”

Impulsively, Cordelia pulled Oz into a hug, catching him completely by surprise. “I'm glad. I mean, I didn't really think that our friendship would last, you know, so I guess I'm glad it did. You're pretty alright, Oz.”

“Likewise,” Oz chucked warmly, letting go of the taller girl and giving her hand an affectionate squeeze.

Oz looked out over the rows of dark, empty parking spots as Cordelia crossed to the passenger side of the van. Apparently, it hadn't occurred to most of the mob to drive. Out of the corner of his eye, Oz caught sight of a flash of orange, absurdly bright in the hazy twilight filling the corners of the nearly vacant lot.

"Oz!" Willow shouted, coming up behind him, giant toothy grin on her face.

"Hey, Wills," Oz smiled back, and the warmth in his voice when he spoke to her was so thick and real that even he could hear it. “I thought you were going home with your mom?"

"Mmm, I was supposed to," Willow teased, and Oz was struck by just how much he’d missed her smile when they were apart, "but Mrs. Summers offered to take her home so she could do mom-to-mom damage control. I was hoping I could get a ride with you."

"Gladness."

"Oh, good. I was really needing some Oz-time."

"Same here." Oz pitched his voice just a little lower, a private, for-Willow-only voice, almost completely forgetting about Cordelia, waiting on the other side of the van. "I was scared, Will."

"Me too."

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you for good," Oz whispered desperately, slipping his arms around Willow to pull her close.

Without attracting the attention of either redhead, Cordelia crept around the back of the van, towards City Hall. Oz noticed her as she began crossing the parking lot back towards the Hall, werewolf senses catching her quiet footsteps.

"Cordy, wait!" Oz called, taking a step back from Willow, crossing to her side. "I thought you wanted a ride?"

"Take your girlfriend home, Oz. I'll get Giles to drive me," Cordelia smiled at him, enjoying the look of surprise on Willow's face. "And Willow, I guess I'm glad you didn't burn to death!"

“You sure?” Oz checked, arm looped around Willow.

“Yes, unfortunately for me, I am. I’m brave. I can chance another ride in his four-wheeled deathtrap.”

“And we're good?” Oz asked, more worried about the answer to the question than he would have believed, just a month ago.

“Yeah, Oz,” Cordelia smiled at him. “We're all good.”

Oz nodded at her, and Willow leaned her head on his shoulder and, happier than he’d been in weeks, Oz echoed Cordelia. “Good.”

fin.


End file.
